Classic Poem

To the Printer

Printer , Thou tellst me good Bookes will not sell,
Most men (thou say'st) are now become so ill:
Then heere's a Booke belike should like them well;
For, Foolery , in Folio, it doth fill.
Then print this some, sith Foolery in print
Most men approue, the World is at this stint.